Page 72 of The Prince of Demons

I cursed at him.

“That was not ladylike.”

“Forgive me if your deals give me unladylike levels of aggravation.”

“Hmm.” He circled me, pacing in tune with my aggressive darkness.

I doubted I liked chaos, but a petty part of me craved the conversation that company brought. Would Reaper, being a demon prince, have a crown?

“Where’s your crown?” I asked him, eager for a distraction.

“I don’t wear one. I wear a gat, a traditional hat of my people, but I rarely wear it lately. It impedes the four essentials of demon survival.”

“Which are?”

“Fighting, fleeing, feeding, and… fornicating.” He sounded like he held back a laugh at the last word.

“And how often do you do those?” I snapped.

“Not enough of any, unfortunately.” Crow cawed in a high-pitched sound that resembled laughter.

“My lovers are few and far between,” Reaper admitted.

“Why?”

“Why? Who would want me?” He chuckled darkly. “The transporter of the dead? Why not date an actual corpse at that point?”

“But—”

You’re so handsome, I almost tacked on. But his ego was big enough already.

“But what, seraphim? Do you think you’re the only one that has hurt me with your rejection? Every generation, the same thing happens.”

His voice took on different voices, all higher-pitched as if they were to resemble women. “My mother said no. My dad threatened to kill you. The elders have forbidden it. Fate foretells doom.”

His normal voice returned. “I have had no shortage of once-interested options but nobody to actually share the burden of my reign with.”

He pivoted toward me. “Tell me about your House system.”

“What?”

He loved changing the subject as soon as I learned something new about him, and I could never quite figure out why.

“I imagine you also desire community. Explain to me why you started the process.”

“Well…” I shifted on my feet. “Pleasing my mom…it’s all I’ve ever wanted. She sacrificed her free time to be a mom for me, gave up working, stayed in touch with Aether, and ignored her own wants to provide for mine. It feels disrespectful to her hard work to not pursue the best for myself.”

He prodded me with another question. “Do you still desire to join a House?”

I took in a suffering breath. I didn’t have to be honest, but Reaper just revealed something about himself, so I felt like I should repay him.

“I should. I fear… that everything I do will be for naught. That I will be stuck in the spinning wheel of life, always making progress, but never being able to catch up to who I could become.” I can only be honest about that with him, a fellow shadow wielder, who never quite fit into any predetermined mold.

“Why?”

“Because when I go to those top Houses, it’s like, they’re all perfect. Perfect grades, perfect use of magic, perfect social circles. They even have perfect skin! How am I supposed to feel like I belong in a place where nobody has problems but me?”

I almost refrained from finishing the sentence. My problems seemed so insignificant, inconsequential, compared to him having to run a kingdom. Why would he care?

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